


Combat Training

by tjumblr



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, shaynor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 22:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjumblr/pseuds/tjumblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Shepard orders Comm Specialist Traynor to individualized combat training. As the training progresses, the women learn more about one another and grow closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Firing Range

**Author's Note:**

> The following chapters should be seen as vignettes. As a supplement to the story of Commander Shepard and Samantha Traynor presented in Mass Effect 3. As such, there are gaps in time between each chapter.

Shepard drove the rented car through the streets of the ward, zipping in and out of other cars.  Samantha sat beside her, tightly gripping the door handle and looking out the window at the passing lights from cars and buildings.  Shepard had ordered her to go on this trip, but hadn’t mentioned where they were going or why, and Samantha had yet to build up the courage to ask. They had just left Mars; Samantha had only spoken to Shepard twice, and she was still a bit frightened of her.  Shepard could be intimidating, in that “so driven it puts you to shame” sort of way.  In a “I saved the galaxy twice.  What have you been up to recently?” way.  Samantha turned to look at her.  Even through Shepard’s sunglasses, Samantha could see that she even drove the car with a beautiful focus.

INTENSE FOCUS.  Not “beautiful focus,” she drove with an intense focus.  “Beautiful focus” doesn’t make sense.

The car pulled up to an Alliance facility.  Shepard flashed her credentials to the automated gate, which beeped and opened.  Samantha noticed that there was a guard at the gate, but otherwise the base was almost empty.  This was a large Alliance base on the Citadel, it should be bustling with activity.  But it was bare: almost a ghost town. 

“Commander,” Samantha meekly started, “Does this base seem…quiet to you?  Shouldn’t there be more people here?”

“You’re not wrong.  All available personnel have been diverted to the home front on Earth, so a skeleton crew is operating the base.  Just enough to keep the lights on.”

“What are we doing here?”

Shepard parked the car in front of a small, empty building.  The walls were thick cement, and only had windows at the front.  She turned off the engine and looked at Samantha through her sunglasses with that same beautiful focus as before.  “Of everyone serving on the Normandy, only one is not cleared for combat.”  She paused, “you.”

“That’s not true!” she said, “I am sure Jeffery is not cleared for combat!”

“Joker once single handedly rid the ship of a Collector infestation.  He gets a pass.”

“He had EDI’s help.”

“He gets a pass.  You don’t.”  Samantha slumped into her chair.  “As of right now, consider yourself in combat training.  Now, come on.”  Shepard got out of the car, opened the trunk, and pulled out two large black plastic cases.  She held one case in each hand.

Samantha got out of the car, “How long will this training continue?”

Shepard answered, “Until I’m satisfied with your performance, Specialist.”  She closed the trunk.  “Now, can you get the door for me?”

Samantha ran to the door and opened it, “what is this building?”

“This is the firing range.  Since I can’t take you to the Spectre range, I arranged for us to practice here.”  Shepard shuffled by Samantha into the building.  Samantha followed and studied the room.  It was very plain.  The Plain dark blue walls surrounded them in a simple rectangular box, a long desk stretched from wall to wall while metal cables hung above them holding human shaped targets on the far side of the room.

“I’ve fired a weapon before, Commander.”  Samantha said without pretense.

“You have?  It was my understanding that you weren’t combat trained at all.”

“I went though basic training.”

“You went through basic training?”

“Basically.”

“You basically went through basic training.”

“Yes.”  Samantha paused.  Shepard removed her sunglasses and latched them to her shirt collar, looking Samantha in the eye with a puzzled gaze.  Samantha continued, “Okay, I had to do all the PT, but on much of the combat I was given a pass.  I wasn’t recruited to fight, I was recruited to compile and analyze data streams.  It’s not uncommon for the Alliance to give its science and technology assets different training regimens.”

Samantha was defending herself, but she didn’t need to.  Shepard did her best to not appear accusatory, not fully understanding how intimidating she could appear, “So what weapons have you fired?”

“It was a pistol.  I think a Kessler I?”

Shepard smirked, “Today we’ll be working with a little more kick.”  She knelt down and checked the writing on the two cases and unlocked one plastic suitcase.  Inside was a collapsed M-8 Avenger, she handed the gun to Samantha without expanding it, “Okay, here’s your weapon.  This is an Avenger, standard issue.  To open it you…”

Samantha opened the firearm and grasped the handle.  “I’m a quick study.”

“That’s good.  Okay, ground rules:  One, always assume the weapon is loaded, so don’t point it at anything you don’t mind hitting.”

“Right,” Samantha made sure to hold the rifle so it was pointing down range.

“Two, keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire.”

“I remember.”  Samantha took her finger off the trigger.

“And 3: always be careful of your surroundings.  You don’t want to hit a comrade by mistake or by ricochet.  In here, as long as you are pointing that way, you’ll be okay.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay, now,” Shepard unlocked the second case, which also held an M-8 Avenger, and placed the still collapsed weapon on the counter.  She moved the cases to the wall behind them, out of the way of her feet, “show me how you would hold the weapon in a combat situation.”

It was a weighted request.  Samantha had no idea _how_ she would stand in a combat situation.  Still standing up straight, with feet square with the desk, she brought the weapon to her right shoulder, twisted her torso so her feet and shoulders were perpendicular, and pointed the weapon down range.  She brought her head down to the weapon, until it was almost sideways.

“Comfortable?”  Shepard asked?

“Not really.”

“That’s how you know there’s a problem.  Put the weapon down.”  Samantha relaxed and placed the rifle on the counter.

“Okay,” Shepard said as she positioned her feet on the floor.  She mirrored her normal stance, so that Samantha could see, “Put your left foot just a little closer to the target than your other foot.  Your right foot will mainly be the one that keeps you up.”  Samantha did as Shepard instructed,  “Comfortable?”  Samantha nodded.  “Good, pick up the rifle.”

Samantha picked up the rifle and Shepard walked to her, she guided the rifle to Samantha’s shoulder.  “The butt of the gun goes here.”  Shepard stepped back, looked at her stance, and shook her head.  She walked behind Samantha, and pressed herself against her.  Samantha couldn’t help but blush.  Shepard placed her hands on top of Samantha’s, with her arms on top, “You need to bring your elbows in.  Like this.”  Shepard brought her elbows down, guiding Samantha’s.  Samantha was having trouble focusing.  Shepard’s hands were on top of her own.  Shepard was pressing her body against her.  Her arms were hard, muscular, but had smooth skin.  Her hands were strong and rough too, but she was using a soft grip.  She wasn’t crushing Samantha’s hands; she was being gentile.  Shepard was just being nice.  Isn’t she?  She’s trained people before; how often does she do this?  It can’t be often.  Right?  And are those?  Yes.  Those are Shepard’s breasts, pressed against Samantha’s back.  Samantha gulped.

“Did you get all that?”  Shepard asked.  Samantha panicked.  Shepard had been talking the whole time!  “Yes ma’am.”

Shepard stepped back, allowing Samantha to stand on her own.  “Now, when you fire, lean into the shot to compensate for the kick.  Be ready for it.”  She walked to her own rifle.

“Yes.”

“Okay, fire when ready.  Just a short burst, then we’ll see how you did.”  Shepard opened her rifle.  Samantha lined up the sites, putting the center of the target in her crosshairs.  Shepard looked at her rifle.  Her eyes widened, and she turned to Samantha, “Specialist!  Wait!”  Samantha pulled the trigger.

“BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA”  The rifle rang out loud, louder than Samantha expected.  “Ahh!”  Samantha screamed, as the kick from the firing rifle shot the barrel upward.  Shepard pounced into action and grabbed the rifle as Samantha let it go.  Her hands and shoulder ached. Samantha looked at her hands.

“Damn it!”  Shepard fumed.

“I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I’m so sorry!”  Samantha begged.

“Vega, I’m going to kill you!”

“I’m so sorry, I…Vega?”

“Damn it, James!  You had one job!”  Shepard continued to scold, not looking up from the rifle.

“Commander?”

“I asked Vega to pack these two firearms.  He put the wrong guns in the wrong cases. You were supposed to get the one that was modified to reduce recoil.  Instead, you were firing mine, which has been made more powerful.  The recoil was worse, not better.”  She looked up at Samantha, who was still holding her hands gingerly.  Shepard put the rifle on the counter and walked to Samantha, and held the back of her hands, holding them up to get a better look.  They were red.  Raw.  “These are going to blister.  Eventually you’ll develop some callouses, but until then we might get you some gloves.”

“Aren’t you going to yell at me?”  Samantha asked, trying to wrap her head around the fact that the most famous woman in the galaxy was holding her hands.

“Why would I?  I’m the one that screwed up and gave you the wrong gun.”

“No, I mean, isn’t that what drill instructors do?  Aren’t you going to yell at me?  And call me a maggot?  Say something about steers and…”

“No,” Shepard interrupted, “I’m not going to do that.”

“Is it because you think I am weak?  I’m not.  I can handle it.”

Shepard looked at Samantha in the eyes, “No.  I know you’re not weak.  Not at all.”  Shepard spoke with purpose, “drill sergeants go through that act so they can break down new recruits.  They tear you apart so they can rebuild you how they want.  That’s not what I want.”

“It’s not?”

“We need you, Specialist.  We need you as you are.”  She paused, “We’re in a war.  I cannot guarantee that we won’t ever be boarded.  If that happens, I want to make sure that you are able to take care of yourself.  That you are able to get out.”

“I was planning on just finding you and sticking with you,” Samantha remarked.

“Not a bad plan, but I won’t always be there.  I need you to be able to defend yourself.  I need you to survive.”

Samantha blushed, “uh…yes ma’am.”  The women noticed that they were still holding hands.

Shepard let her hands go, “Oh, um…here,” Shepard reached into her back pocket and pulled out some fingerless leather gloves.  They were black, but faded and worn.  “Here, these should help your hands.”  Samantha put them on, the pressure of the gloves stung a bit, but it was nothing Samantha couldn’t handle.  She wasn’t weak.

Shepard adjusted a setting on the weapon Samantha didn’t fire, “I’m setting it on semi-automatic.  We’ll work on aiming with this before we try automatics.  Here.”  She handed it to Samantha, “Now, get in your position.”

Samantha had a new confidence, even with the throbbing in her chest and the pain in her hands.  She aimed the weapon.

“Fire.”

BLAM.  Samantha pulled the trigger, steady through the recoil.

“Good.  Again.”


	2. The Cat

Exciting music poured softly into the shuttle bay through a small, portable music player.  Shepard and Samantha wore their uniform pants, but their shirts had long been abandoned, exposing their sports bras and tank tops.  Shepard wore boxing drill pads on her hands, and Samantha padded sparing gloves.  The two spared, feet quickly dancing and moving around the bay.  Shepard would present a pad, Samantha would punch it, and every now and then Shepard would punch the pad forward for Samantha to dodge.  As they spared, the women exchanged quips,

“Keep moving, Traynor, keep your feet moving.”

“They’re…moving…Commander.”

“You’re barely tapping me, Traynor!  You getting tired?”

“Oh…no ma’am...I could…go all day…I just don’t…want to hurt…your delicate hands.”

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that, Specialist!”

As the women continued to spar, the elevator doors opened, revealing James Vega and Steve Cortez, coming back to duty from dinner.  “…re’s no way that the Wizards can defend…” James noticed the women, “Oi, are we interrupting?”

Shepard stopped the drill and looked at the clock on her music player, “No.  We were just about to finish up.”

“Already?  I was just getting warmed up.”  Samantha quipped.

“You sure?  We could run through it all again?”

“No please.”

Shepard laughed as she took off her pads, and held out her hands for Samantha’s gloves and tape.  As Shepard packed everything away in her small black canvas bag, the men walked to their posts, Steve by the elevator door and James past the women’s makeshift workout area.

“I gotta say, Rook.  You’re looking pretty good.”  James said.

“You better watch out, James,” Steve said, “Pretty soon Sam’s going to be able to take you down.”

“That’s what I meant.  Look at those guns!”  James joked.  Samantha smirked and flexed her arms, she had grown stronger since starting combat training with Shepard.

“Rook?”  Shepard asked, placing the music player in her bag and zipping it up.

“It’s a play on words” Samantha said, “It’s a chess piece and it’s what you call newcomers.  Since I’m just now training in combat, James likes to call me a rookie.”  Samantha jokingly feigned a look of aggression toward James.  James laughed and pretended to cower.

“Joke all you want, Vega.  Specialist Traynor’s one tough…” Shepard placed her hand on Samantha’s sweaty shoulder.  Samantha’s face tensed as she panicked, writhed out of Shepard’s touch, and backed away.

“Yes…well…uh,” Samantha backed away, clearly anxious, “I’m pretty sweaty now.  And… um…” she bumped into the console in front of the elevator door.  She grabbed her shirt which was tossed over it, “I’d better take a shower before I get something to eat, and…uh…”  She was by the elevator door now, “May I be dismissed, Commander?”

Confused, Shepard watched her back away, “dismissed, Specialist.”

“Thank you.”  Samantha touched the holographic interface and the elevator doors quickly opened.  Samantha shot into the elevator and hit the screen for her floor, breathing heavily and still anxious.  The elevator door closed, leaving the three soldiers in the shuttle bay standing dumbstruck.

Finally, Shepard spoke, “What…what was that?”

“Probably her shower thing,” said James, somewhere between concern and matter-of-fact.

“Her shower thing?” Shepard asked.

“Yeah, you mean you don’t know?  She didn’t tell you?”  Shepard looked at James confusedly.  “Well, if she didn’t tell you,” James started, going back to his post, “I don’t think it’s my place.”

Shepard turned to Steve, “Cortez?”

“Sorry, Commander, it doesn’t happen often but James has a point.” Steve said.

“That’s cold, Esteban.”  James called across the shuttle bay.

“If it’s something that will interfere with her duties, with her training, than I need to know.  As her commanding officer.”  Shepard pushed.  She wanted them to know that this wasn’t gossip.  This wasn’t idle chat.  Shepard needed to know.  She desperately needed to know.  “Don’t make me give an order.”

Steve sighed, “Okay.  I guess…” Steve collected his thoughts, “So, you know Sam was on Horizon when the Collectors attacked, right?”

“Yeah.  She told me she was visiting her parents.”  Shepard answered,

“Did she tell you anything else?”  James asked.

“No.  Not really.”

This was difficult for Steve, “It wasn’t just that she was there.  She was stung by the Seeker swarm.  Immobile and aware, she was picked up by two collectors, and placed inside a pod.  But, before they could close it, the two collectors left.  They just left, and they never came back.”

“Probably because Lola here was kicking ass.  They were probably called to help put you down and you put a shot in their eye sockets.” James contributed.

“Sam was stuck inside the open pod,” Steve continued, “and in all the fluids and crud and slime that were pooled inside.  She was aware the whole time, panicking, and unable to move.”

“She said it felt like hours before the Seeker sting wore off.”  James continued, “When she was finally able to move, she climbed out of the pod and looked for her friends and family.  She couldn’t find them; she didn’t know they were taken to the safe house and she thought they were dead.  She made her way to her house, turned on the shower, and in her clothes got in the shower, curled up in a ball and cried.  For all she knew, she was the only one left.  When she says you saved her life, she means it.  She was literally seconds away from never being seen again.”

Shepard stood in shock as Steve continued, “Ever since Horizon, Sam’s been really uncomfortable with being dirty or sweaty.  It always reminds her of being in the pod.  She panics.”

“She can’t go too long without taking a shower” James said, “She’ll usually take two or three a day.  And when we first took off, she’d take like four or five.  Something about the air being recycled.  Honestly, I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did.”

“What do you mean?” Shepard asked.

“When we came in here, Rook was covered in sweat.  Covered.  But she was laughing.  Joking.  When we first took off, when she first told us about this, I’d have never expected to see that.”

“Commander, Sam’s never told you about this?  You’ve never noticed?”

“No.  She’s never told me.  And she’s never…” Shepard trailed off and gestured to the elevator. 

“Have you ever touched her while working out?”

“No.  Maybe?  I don’t know.”  Shepard paused, “Anything else I should know?”

“Well, she brushes her teeth constantly.  Same reason” James said.

“Yeah,” Steve continued, “She used to have this extremely expensive toothbrush before we left Earth.  She lost it.  She’s been saving up for a new one ever since.”

“She has?”  Shepard asked.

“Yeah.”  James answered, “She’s barely spent any of her pay.  Like, at all.”

“Maybe I should go…” Shepard started before Joker interrupted her over the comm.

“Commander, we’re docking at the Citadel now.  How long should I tell them we’ll be staying?”

Shepard sighed and rubbed her sweaty brow with her thumb and finger, “Uh…Tell them we’ll be here for four days.”

“Four days?” a surprised Joker asked, “Why so long?”

“We just saved the lives of hundreds of colonists, several Alliance war assets, and resurrected the Prothean species.  I think the crew’s earned a little down time, don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am!”  Joker said, now excited instead of surprised.

“And Joker, could you announce that to the crew?”

“Shore leave AND I get to deliver the news?  It must be my birthday.”

Joker’s announcement of shore leave rang over the loudspeakers in the shuttle bay as the three soldiers calmly listened and waited.  After Joker disconnected, Shepard picked up her bag and walked to the elevator, picking up her shirt on the way.

“What are you going to say to Sam?”  Steve asked.

“Lieutenant,” She sighed, “not a damn clue.”  The elevator doors closed.

*   *   *

Samantha buried her hair in a white towel as she walked from the women’s washroom to the crew quarters wearing her pajama shorts and Alliance t-shirt.  Everyone was still out, still at Purgatory, still having fun.  She only saw Joker and EDI in the helm and two other crewmates by the map in the CIC.  She was sure that there were at least a few people downstairs in engineering, but she knew there weren’t going to be many.  The Normandy didn’t get shore leave very often, and you’d have to be crazy to be on the ship when you weren’t assigned to be.

Crazy.

Samantha scolded herself: for ducking out at Purgatory because “she was tired,” for losing her composure with Shepard today, for everything.  She had been doing so well; what went wrong?  What snapped today?  She told herself that there was nothing wrong with dirt.  There’s nothing wrong with sweat.  Just stop.  Stop it.  Stop panicking whenever you haven’t brushed your teeth for five hours.  Stop taking three showers a day.   Stop it!

As Samantha walked into the crew’s room she lifted the towel from in front of her eyes, and hooked it around her shoulders.  On her bunk sat a simple black box, smaller than a shoebox, with a simple blue sparkly bow.  She sat on the bed and lifted the lid of the box.  Inside was some blue tissue paper surrounding…

Samantha’s eyes widened.  Could it be?  Did someone just leave a Cision Pro Mark 4 toothbrush on Samantha’s bunk?  As a present?  She wouldn’t have to save every single credit she earned anymore.  This was wonderful!  Samantha looked for a card; there was none.  She wondered, ‘Who?  Who had that kind of money to just drop on a…’

Samantha sighed, “EDI, where is Commander Shepard?”

EDI’s voice rang out in the room, “Commander Shepard is in the kitchen area of the crew deck.”  Samantha closed her eyes and smiled, sitting on her bunk, open box next to her, tightly clutching the plastic carrying case for the toothbrush to her chest.  After a moment, she sprang into action, putting the toothbrush back into the box and rushing out of the room.  She walked out of the crew quarters, past the elevator, and into the mess area, seeing Shepard at the coffee machine with her back to her.  Instead of her normal uniform, she was wearing a black hoodie.  Samantha’s never seen her so casual.

“Hello, Commander.” She said as calmly as she could.

Shepard turned to face Samantha, who was standing on the other side of the room.

“Oh, hello Traynor.  I thought you were out with the rest of the crew?  Didn’t everyone go to Purgatory?”

“Yes.  I came back a bit early.  I don’t know, you’ve been to one club you’ve been to them all.” Samantha lied.  It sounded better than the pathetic truth.

Shepard chuckled, “I suppose so.  Coffee?”

“Is there any tea?”

“Uh…” Shepard looked through the brewer capsules, “Yes.  Looks like there’s some tea.”

“Is it caffeinated?”

“Uh…I don’t know.”

“What kind is it?”

“Blue.”

“It’s ‘blue’ tea?”

Shepard held up a blue capsule, “Yes.  At least I think this is tea?”

“Yes, that is tea.  No, it’s not caffeinated.  And yes, I would like some.  Thank you.”

“I didn’t realize there was more than one kind of tea.  Isn’t it all just hot leaf water?”  Shepard loaded the two capsules into different slots of the brewer, pressed a button for sugar for each, and the hot liquid poured into the metal mugs.

“You realize I am British.  What you are saying is physically hurting me.”  Samantha joked as she sat down at the large table.  Shepard brought the mug of warm tea to Samantha, who brought her face to the mug and took a deep breath.  Shepard sat down across from Samantha, warming her hands on the mug, letting the coffee cool.

“You’ll never believe what happened today.”  Samantha started, “Someone left a Cision Pro Mark 4 toothbrush on my bunk.”

Shepard smiled, “Really?  Do you know who it is?”

“No idea.  Seems they forgot to leave a card.”

“Well, it looks like you may have a secret admirer, there, Traynor.” 

Samantha’s heart skipped a beat, “Seems so.  A secret admirer with a great taste in oral hygiene products.”

“Looks like it.” Shepard laughed as she sipped her coffee, “If I had given it to you, I probably would say something about how you lost your first one because of me, so it only makes sense that I replace it.” 

“But you didn’t get this new one for me.”  Samantha joked.

“Oh, no.  Of course not.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Of course.  This is from my ‘secret admirer.”

“Yes”

“This rich, beautiful woman of mystery.”

“Exactly.”  The women laughed, then sat in silence for a few moments.  Looking at each other, and down at their mugs.  They enjoyed the quiet hum of the ship and each other’s company.

“Shepard,” Samantha said, her courage built and her luke-warm tea partially gone, “About this afternoon.  I…”

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone?”  Shepard interrupted.

Samantha, surprised by the interruption, nodded, “Sure.”

“I’m scared of cats.”

Samantha crossed her arms and slumped back in her chair, “…cats?”

“Hand to God, I’m scared of cats.”

“Do you mean, like, big cats?  Lions and tigers?”

“No.  Regular, domestic cats.”

Samantha raised an eyebrow.  She did her best to appear jovial, but she knew what Shepard was doing.  Steve and James must have told Shepard about her problem after she left.  She was making something up to make her feel better.  She was pitying her.  Like everyone else who knew pitied her.  Shepard meant well, but it hurt.  Samantha put on a smile to hide it.

“How much do you know about me?  I mean, from before I joined the Alliance?” Shepard asked.

Samantha shook her head and shrugged, “Nothing, really.  You never talk about it.”

Shepard took a deep breath, “My parents died when I was very young.  I never met them.  Not really.”  Samantha leaned forward, listening intently.  “I was bounced around from foster home to foster home, never staying in the same place more than a couple of months or so.  No one really wanted to keep me because I…” Shepard brought her coffee to her lips, “Well, they didn’t.”  She drank, “When I was eleven, I was put in this terrible foster home.  The place all the ‘bad’ kids went.  I remember the place was run down, dank, and overcrowded.  Even by foster-system standards. The woman running the home was very…” she paused, “…mean.  The first time she hit me I ran away.  I got on my cruddy little bike and peddled as fast as I could out of there.  It took me all day to get across town.  Behind a large apartment building I found an old mattress that someone had thrown away.  I hid it behind a dumpster, covered it with newspaper, and left to see if I could find some food.  When I came back, unsuccessful, I found there was a grey cat sleeping on my newspaper bed.  It had a collar, and didn’t really react to me approaching.  I assumed it was lost or ran away, like me.  So, I picked it up to move it off my bed.  I had it in my arms, walked a few steps, and the thing freaked out.  The little asshole bit my face.  Took off a chuck too.  I still have the…” Shepard brought her hand to her eyebrow, “well, I had the scar, until Cerberus put me back together.”

Samantha was speechless as Shepard continued, “Well, I didn’t have much to take care of myself.  I put some paper on my face, got in my bed behind the dumpster, and tried to sleep.  In the days to come the thing got infected and I got really sick.  Weak, coughing, throwing up anything I ate.  Eventually I must have passed out on the street and someone found me and took me to a hospital, because I woke up in a hospital exam room not knowing of where I was or what day it was or anything.  They stitched me up, gave me some medicine, and called my foster mother.  As soon as I heard her voice outside my door, I climbed out the window.  I wasn’t going back.”

Shepard sipped the rest of her coffee, “I was stealing clothes from a second-hand store when I was picked up by a street gang.  They took me in, fed me, and gave me a place to live.  It was the closest thing to a family as I’ve ever had.  Until recently, anyway.  I joined the Alliance when I was 18 for the bed and three squares, and the rest, as they say…”

Samantha was still at a loss for words, “Shepard…”

“To this day, I cannot see a cat without getting anxious.  I see one and my eyebrow stings and my skin crawls.  I get sweaty and nauseated.  There was this black cat that used to hang out near where I was being held on Earth.  Every time I saw that bugger through the window I nearly panicked.  I would scold myself.  I would tell my self ‘it’s just a damn cat.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.  It can’t hurt you.  Stop it.  Just stop it!” 

Shepard was getting worked up, “I felt like I was crazy.  Broken.  I mean, I’m Commander Fucking Shepard!  I drove a tank through a mass relay!  I punched a Yahg in the face!  I went toe to toe with an enormous human Reaper!  How the hell can one stray cat get under my skin so badly?”  Shepard was shaking, she took a deep breath and focused on her cup, “But whenever I saw it, whenever I see any cat, I am eleven years old again: alone in the street, blood running down my face, coughing and throwing up.  Dying.  I just…” She looked up at Samantha, “I guess sometimes getting over a fear is harder than we think, even if we know it’s irrational.”

The women locked eyes for a moment, Samantha almost in tears.  “Well,” Shepard started, not really sure where to go from here, “That feels good to get off my chest.”  Shepard stood up, and carried her mug to the kitchen, placed it inside the brewing machine, and started another cup.  Samantha brought her mug to the counter by the sink.  Shepard turned to face her, and Samantha hugged her tightly.  Shepard, after a moment of surprise, hugged back.  She held Samantha close and buried her face in Samantha’s neck.  They stood there embracing as time stopped around them.  The whir of the engines faded away.  The war, the Reapers, all of it disappeared.  There, in that moment, it was just them, just the hug, for as long as they wanted.

“Thank you.” Samantha quietly broke the silence.

“No problem.” Shepard whispered back.

“For the toothbrush.”

“No problem.”

Shepard repositioned her head; wordlessly, she kissed the bottom of Samantha’s neck.  Shivers ran up and down Samantha’s spine, causing her to squeeze Shepard tighter.  Shepard responded by squeezing back.  Samantha kissed as close to Shepard’s cheekbone as she could.

They released slightly, keeping their arms round each other’s waists.  They looked into each other’s eyes, and began to lean in.

“VWERRRR” The evil elevator whirred loudly, climbing up to the CIC.  It brought back time, and the war, and everything that went along with it.  Perhaps its most cruel act was forcing the women brake their trance; they stepped back from one another.

“Everyone must be coming back from the bar.”  Shepard said.

“Yes, probably.”

“I should…um…take my coffee.”

“I should get to bed.”

“Yeah.  Sleep is good.”

“Yeah.”  Samantha turned to walk back to the crew quarters as Shepard turned to her now cold coffee, pouring it out into the sink.  Samantha stopped and turned back to the commander, “Shepard?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you like to have a game night some night?  Just…you and me?”

“Yeah.  I’d like that.”

“I’ll…I’ll send you a message.”

“Okay.  We could do it in my cabin.”  Shepard regretted her words, and then didn’t regret her words.

“Right.  Well…see you tomorrow.”  Samantha turned and walked out of the area and hurried into the crew quarters.  She pulled her footlocker out from under her bunk.  After opening it, she was about to put the black box inside when she saw the leather gloves Shepard had given her their first training session.  Samantha pulled out the gloves, and placed the black box inside.  She latched and stored the footlocker.  She rubbed the soft leather of the gloves with her thumbs.

She heard the elevator doors opening outside.  Soon after she heard someone exclaim, “Commander!  You missed it!” Someone else asked, “What are you doing down here?”  She heard the commander respond, “Getting some decaf before bed.  What happened?”  The voices erupted into an excited cloud of sound beyond the walls.  Samantha, still holding the gloves tightly, tucked herself in bed.

Gabby Daniels came into the room, sound of the excited conversation growing and fading with the opening and closing of the door.  “Hey, Sam.  Feeling better?” she asked as she climbed the latter to the bunk above Samantha.

“Much, thank you.”  Samantha said, cradling the gloves under the blankets.

“You missed it!  Kenneth got into this argument with…you know, I’ll just tell you tomorrow.  What have you been doing this whole time?”

“Nothing much.  Took a shower, had some tea with the commander.”

“Just you and Commander Shepard?  How was that?”

“Fantastic.”


	3. The Distraction

_Tha-dun…whack._

_Tha-dun…whack._

Gabby stood in the center of the Port Observation deck tossing a small blue rubber against the window.  She would bounce it off the floor to the window and catch it.

_Tha-dun…whack_

“Must you do that in here?”  Samantha said, looking up from her datapad.  She was sitting on the couch by the window, feet were up on the edge of the cubic coffee table.

“Hey, I was here first.  If you want to read so bad go somewhere else.”

“There was nowhere else.  People are sleeping in the bunks, talking in the mess hall and the other observation deck.  There’s no where to go.”

_Tha-dun…whack._

“What are you reading anyway?  New tech manual?”

_Tha-dun…whack._

Gabby continued, “Oh, and good job on the Grissom Academy catch.”

“Thank you.  No, it’s not work.  I’m studying.”

“Studying?”

_Tha-dun…whack._

“Yes.  Studying.  It’s for my combat training with the Commander.  Shepard wants me to read up on famous battles from history...”

_Tha-dun…whack._

“This is one of her history books from her academy days.  I’m supposed to have it more or less read by our next session.  She said she was going to quiz me.”

_Tha-dun…whack._

Gabby couldn’t help but be curious, “What are you reading up on now?  Shanxi?  Oooh, Is it the invasion of the Normandy?  That too on the nose?”

_Tha-dun…whack_

“Thermopylae.”  Sam said, going back to her reading.

Gabby was about to throw her ball, and stopped mid swing, “Thermopawha?”

“Thermopylae.  It was a battle in ancient Greece.”

“Wow.  Way back.”

_Tha-dun…whack_

“Yes.  The book is very…”

_Tha-dun…whack_

“…thorough…”

_Tha-dun…whack_

_Tha-plang…pop…pop…pop pop popopopopopopopop…_

Samantha quckly stood as gabby tossed the ball.  After it bounced off the floor she batted it with her datapad.  The ball bounced into a separated area with a card table.  It bounced off the glass walls and eventually came to a rest on the floor under the table.

“Nice hit.”  Gabby said, “It’s way foul, but you got some muscle on it anyway.”  Gabby walked into the card table room and crawled under the table to get her ball back.

“Sorry, it was driving me mad.”  Samantha said as she plopped down onto the couch, “I am stressed enough with everything that’s going on: the war, my duties.  Now, add the Commander’s history tests and…” Samantha rubbed her eyes.

“Commander riding you hard?”  Gabby said with a giggle as she crawled out from under the table, blue ball in hand.

“Extremely,” Samantha didn’t get the joke.  She pinched the bridge of her nose as her vision was starting to blur after staring at the electronic screen too long.

Gabby burst out laughing as she sat on the couch across from Samantha.  “What?”  Samantha indignantly asked.

Gabby tried to calm down, still giggling, “What’s really going on between you and the commander?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and the commander have ‘fantastic’ tea,” Gabby did an impression of Samantha’s accent on ‘fantastic,’ “and you’re giddy for days.  She invites you to her cabin for a ‘game night,’ and you _spend the night in her cabin._   Seriously, are you and the commander hooking up?”

Samantha blushed, “That’s none of your business!”

Gabby threw her arms in the air, “I _knew_ it!”

“Gabby, there’s nothing going on between me and the commander.”

“Nothing my ass!  You shaved your legs past the knee!”  Gabby pointed accusingly, “Spill it, Traynor.  Or I’m going to make stuff up and tell Kenneth.”

Samantha knew the seriousness of this threat.  Kenneth Donnelly tended to believe everything he heard from Gabby, and he wasn’t exactly the most private or quiet person.  Samantha’s eye narrowed, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Gabby’s eyes narrowed, “Kinky stuff.”

They stared each other down; Samantha broke first, “Alright fine.”  Gabby let out a short ‘squee’ and sat forward on the couch as Samantha sighed and collected her thoughts.

“You want to know what’s really going on between me and the commander?”  Sam asked.  Gabby nodded.  Sam leaned forward and quietly said, “We played chess.”

Gabby flopped back onto the couch with an accusatory groan.

“I’m sorry I don’t have more for you.”  Samantha feigned honesty as well as she could, which was honestly terrible, “I went to her cabin, she let me use her shower, and we played a couple of games of chess.”

Gabby raised her eyebrow, “Was she good?  At ‘chess?’”

“Yes.  Each of us won a game.”  Samantha smirked, “I won twice.”  Samantha had to keep herself from laughing at her private joke, lest Gabby catch on to her double entendre.

“That’s good.  You haven’t won anything except a couple games of solitaire since I’ve been on board.”  Samantha’s double entendre was not as hidden as she would have hoped.  There was no use hiding it now.  Though wordplay, Samantha had all but confessed to sleeping with her commanding officer.

“So,” Gabby asked, “are you and the commander ‘playing chess’ exclusively? Or are you just…uh…messing around?”  The joke fell apart.

“I don’t ‘mess around’…when it comes to chess.”

“Does she?” 

Samantha paused, unsure of how to answer.  Her ‘pregame’ conversation with Shepard had been vague and flirty.  She certainly didn’t follow it up with, ‘so, now that we’re totally and completely exclusive, how many kids do you want after we get married?’  Before Samantha could come up with an answer, Garrus and James entered the room, loudly boasting about previous military endeavors and trading fish stories.  Samantha grabbed her datapad and stood up, “looks like I’ll have to find somewhere else to study.”

“Lo siento, Rook.  We didn’t mean to kick you out.”

“It’s no problem, James.  It’s my fault for trying to study in the only room with a bar.”  Samantha pointed to the bar.  As she started out, Gabby called back to her,

_Tha-dun…whack_

“Last I was aware, no one was in the war room.  You could probably study there.”

“It’s a war room, not a study hall.”  Samantha responded, trying to think of where she could go.  If Garrus was here, she could probably go to the gun battery, but there was nowhere comfortable to sit there.

“If no one’s there I don’t see the problem,” Garrus said, “No one will know.  Our lips are sealed.”

“Do you have lips, Scars?”  James asked.

“Are you coming on to me?”  The three crewmembers laughed and joked as Samantha nodded and walked out of the room.  After the doors closed, she could have sworn she heard one more ‘ _Tha-dun…whack._ ’

Samantha quietly walked down the hall to the elevator and took it up one floor.  Once the doors opened, she darted past her normal post, through the security gate, past the conference room (which would have been a perfect place to study if it had a single damn chair), and into the war room.  As she walked Samantha couldn’t help but remember Gabby’s last question, “does she?”  What were Shepard’s feelings?  They had a connection that night in the kitchen, and that night in her cabin.  But were they real?  It wouldn’t be the first time Samantha thought someone felt one way toward her when, in fact, they were just biding time.  Is that what Shepard was doing?

Shepard had been so honest with her.  So open.  That story about the cat, no way was that just an act.  Was it?  Or maybe, Samantha thought, she actually was being honest, but once the war is over and the adrenaline wares off Shepard would decide that she didn’t want anything serious.  Samantha couldn’t blame her; the world was ending.  People do crazy things when they’re scared and alone.

Once the doors to the war room opened, she could hear voices inside.  One voice belonged to Admiral Hackett over the vid com, and one was Commander Shepard’s.  Samantha knew she should have left, she knew that she was disobeying any number of protocols by being in this room without a good reason, and she knew eavesdropping on a commanding officer’s private conversation could have disastrous consequences, regardless of the nature of their relationship.  Relationship?  Was this a…

Samantha ignored these instincts and hid behind the central table in the war room, looking onto their conversation.

“…amn good job, Shepard.  They will be extremely helpful in finishing the Crucible project.”  Hackett said.

“Thank you, sir.”  Shepard responded.

“One more thing, Commander, it has come to my attention that you’ve begun a romantic relationship with a subordinate.  Is this true?”

“Yes, sir.”  Shepard said without a pause.  Samantha couldn’t help but wonder how it was that everyone knew about her relationship status but her.

“It’s the comm specialist, right?  Traynor…Stephanie?”  Hackett asked.

“Samantha.”  Shepard answered.  Samantha was surprised Hackett even knew she existed, let alone he knew _about_ what her name was.

“That’s right.  I remember her from the Normandy retrofits.  Really bright, and a hell of a technician.”  Samantha could not see Shepard trying to hide a proud smirk.  Hackett continued, “I don’t need to remind you of the Alliance policy on fraternization between a commanding officer and a subordinate.  You know it, and as a Spectre you could make a case for it not applying to you.  And, quite frankly, I don’t care.”  Hackett spoke with purpose; he didn’t dance around his point.  “However, we both know why those policies are in place.”

Shepard nodded.  Samantha knew why those policies were in place as well.  They aimed to protect crewmembers from commanding officers that would abuse their position and to reduce distractions among combat personnel.  What Samantha didn’t know, is where this conversation was going.

“We need you focused, Commander, and if this is going to be a distraction we could find a place for her here on the Crucible project.”

Samantha felt her heart drop.

“Her technical skills would definitely contribute to the completion of the Crucible, and it would probably be a safer place for her; she’d be away from combat.”

Shepard paused and looked down.  It looked like she was thinking, but Samantha couldn’t tell from her hidden vantage point what she was thinking.  Was she going to accept the offer?

Shepard looked up, “I appreciate it, but honestly, I would be more distracted if she weren’t here.”

Hackett nodded, “I understand.  You’re doing fine work, Shepard.  Keep it up and we just may win this war.  Hackett out.”  The hologram of Admiral Hackett dispersed as Shepard stood in place, looking on to where he stood.

She turned her head slightly, “You can come out now, Samantha.”

Samantha poked her head out from her hiding space behind the round table, “How did you know I was here?”

Shepard turned to her and smiled, “I have eyes in the back of my head.”  Samantha stood up and walked around to the commander, who met her halfway.  Shepard asked, “What are you doing in here anyway?  Eavesdropping on your commanding officer is a pretty serious offense.”

Samantha presented the datapad to Shepard, who took it.  “I came here to study.  I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”

“I see.  Why didn’t you go to my cabin?”  Shepard asked as she set the datapad on the nearest surface.

“I didn’t think of…I mean, I didn’t know I could.”

“You can.”  Shepard put her hand on Samantha’s arm and gave it a light squeeze as she smiled.  “Or, you can stay here and study if you’d like.  I’ll get out of your hair.”  Shepard let go of Samantha’s arm and started out.

Samantha paused as Shepard started out of the room.  She tried to contain her trepidation, but she burst before the commander reached the door, “Shepard…am I a distraction?”

Shepard turned to her, smiling but somber, “No.  I am 100% focused on defeating the Reapers.”

“No,” Samantha continued, “I mean…am I _just_ a distraction?”  Shepard’s eyes narrowed and her head tilted.  As Samantha continued, Shepard slowly made her way back across the room to her, “I mean, What is this?” she pointed to Shepard, herself, and back to Shepard, “Is this real?  Because I don’t want to scare you off, but it’s real for me.  But…am I just something to distract you from the war?  Something to keep your ‘moral up?’  Once the war is over, once we’re not stuck on the same ship with the same forty people…are you…” Samantha trailed off.

Shepard rushed over to Samantha and grabbed her hands.  She looked into Samantha’s brown eyes, “Samantha…” she paused, trying to think of the perfect words, “as far as I am concerned, Cerberus and the Reapers are _just_ distractions.”

Samantha blushed as Shepard continued, “I understand where you’re coming from.  I know how I come off.   I’m not the most ‘up front’ with my feelings, and I don’t look like someone who would fall for that whole ‘love at first sight’ thing.  But, Samantha…” Shepard squeezed Samantha’s hands, “For me, this is real.  There have been times since getting brought back by Cerberus that didn’t feel like reality.  I’ve felt like I was wandering around in a dream.  But this…” Shepard brought Samantha’s hand to her own chest and pressed down, “this is real.”

Samantha wrapped her arms around Shepard’s waist and pulled her in.  She kissed her commanding officer, breaking any number of Alliance protocols.  Shepard was surprised by the sudden kiss, but she quickly melted into Samantha’s arms, putting her hands behind Samantha’s neck and back.  She wasn’t used to someone else taking the lead, and she liked it.  A lot.

After not nearly enough time of hugging and kissing, the women pulled away.  They blushed and looked around the room and into each other’s eyes.  Shepard took on the unfortunate duty of breaking the moment, “Well, I have to get back to it.  No one’s going to need this room for a while, you can stay here if you like.”  After some hesitation, she let go of Samantha and started walking away. 

Before Shepard reached the door, Samantha called back to her, “Commander, about what Admiral Hackett said…”

Shepard turned around “hmm?”

“If this conflicts with Alliance policy…”

“Ooooh it does…”

“Should we keep it a secret?  Should we avoid telling anyone on board?”

Shepard pushed a button on the nearest console, “Joker,”

Joker responded over the room’s intercom, “Go ahead, Commander.”

“I’m dating Specialist Samantha Traynor.”  Shepard said with a smile.”

“Uh…okay…Anything else?”

“No.”

“Okay.  Let me know when you need to tell me something that everyone _doesn’t_ already know.”  The intercom clicked with Joker signing off.

“I don’t sneak around.”  Shepard said.

“Yes ma’am.”  Samantha replied.  Shepard smiled, nodded, and left the room, leaving Samantha alone in the bright, big war room.  Samantha found a chair to sit in, and started to study her combat textbook.  Unfortunately, she realized as she blushed and bit her bottom lip, the privacy was not going to help her focus.  She was still too distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some comments on other sites asking for more content. Specifically between Chapter 2 and 3. I agreed that there was a pretty big jump between them, so I wanted to add a little more. Hope you enjoy!


	4. The Arena

“I have to admit, Commander, when you invited me out for a night of stimulating action, this is not what I had envisioned.”  Samantha yelled, crouching behind a holographic concrete barrier in the Armax Arsenal Arena, shots ricocheting off the backside.  Shepard stood over her cover, another barrier ten yards away, and fired her M-8 Avenger and ducked back under cover.

“This not exciting enough for you?”  She yelled back as Samantha peaked over the cover and fired.  Shepard used the covering fire to run, and slide next to Samantha “What you have in mind?”  Shepard teased.

Samantha ducked back down, “Less guns, more screaming.”  The women laughed.  As a concussive shot hit the barrier, Samantha sank as far as she could.  “They’re not real…they’re not real.”  Samantha reminded herself.

“No.  Don’t do that.  Don’t get through it only because they’re holograms.  Pretend they are real.  If you’re in a real combat situation, you won’t be able to tell yourself that they don’t exist.”  Shepard placed her hand on Samantha’s cheek, and Samantha grabbed it.  Samantha nodded, and in unison, the two sprang up and fired their weapons, hitting their holographic Cerberus targets.

“End of Round 2,” the commentating VI announced.

The women stood up, reloaded their weapons, and caught their breath.

“Alright, Samantha,” Shepard said, “For this next round, you’re in charge.”

“Me?”

“Yes.  I will follow your orders.  Tell me where to go, what targets to hit, everything.  You devise the strategy.  You can do this.”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t gotten through all three rounds yet…”

“You can do this.”  Shepard encouraged.  She put her hand on Samantha’s shoulder,  “Tell you what.  If we make it though this round…”

“Yes?”

“If we make it through this round, under your command, we’ll leave here, head back to my apartment, and order out.  Maybe play some chess.”

“And..?”  Samantha prodded.

“…And tomorrow morning I’ll make you breakfast in bed.  I’ll even wear one of those frilly little aprons.”  Samantha looked a little disappointed that Shepard wasn’t picking up what she was hinting at.  “I’ll wear _only_ one of those frilly little aprons.”  Samantha perked up.

“By God, we’re making it through this round.”  Samantha exclaimed as she cocked her no-longer-modified-to-reduce-recoil assault rifle.

The VI started to count down “5…4…3…”

“Alright, Commander,” Samantha quickly ordered as the two knelt behind the barricade, “It looks like the enemies will be spawning there.  I want you to get to cover over there.”  She pointed to a high flanking position, “We need to pin them in that area.  If we can contain them, this shouldn’t be too…”

“Final Round” The VI announced, as shots rang out, hitting the concrete barrier.

“I’ll lay suppressive fire!  You get to the flanking position!”  Samantha yelled, Shepard nodded and started to move.  “Oh, Commander!”  Shepard turned back around.  Samantha grabbed the collar of Shepard’s armor and pulled her toward her.  She kissed her passionately, pulled her away, and said, “Take care of yourself!”

“I like it when you’re in charge!”

Samantha popped up over the cover and fired, “Now go!”

*   *   *

“…and blueberries.  I adore blueberries in my pancakes.”  Samantha finished her breakfast order.  Together, Samantha and Shepard walked into the locker room to remove their armor and return their equipment.

“Yeah, yeah.  I got you.  I have to say, you’ve improved a lot since we’ve started coming here.”

“What can I say?  I’m being trained by the best.”

“And, I also have to say,” Shepard looked up and down Samantha’s armor as Samantha bent over to remove her boots, “You look good in armor.”  Shepard said, starting to remove her own.

“It’s hard not to.  I mean, look at this!”  Samantha stood and cupped the sculpted breasts of her armor, “Individual cups?  Who designed this?”

“Straight men.  And that’s nothing, you should see Liara’s armor.”

“Oh, I’ve seen it.”

Shepard finished changing into her casual uniform before Samantha, who had trouble figuring out how to unlatch the chest piece.  “Would you like to shower here, or back at the apartment?”

“I think here would be best.  If you want to return everything, I’ll meet you upstairs?”  Samantha said, removing the last of her armor, now standing in her black sporty underwear.

“No problem, see you there.”  Shepard and Samantha kissed, and Shepard gathered everything and left the locker room to return it.

Shepard bought a soft drink at the concession stand and watched the next match as she waited for Samantha.  She couldn’t help but note all the glaring strategic mistakes the competitors were making, sometimes audibly, earning her annoyed looks from those next to her.  Halfway through a severely doomed second round, Samantha came up behind her, “ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Shepard stood up and pointed to the duffle bag Samantha was carrying, “Want me to get that?”

“My hero.”  Samantha handed her the bag.  Shepard threw it over her shoulder and the two walked out of the arena.  Shepard threw away her empty drink and held her hand for Samantha.  She grabbed it, wearing the old fingerless leather gloves.

“You’re still wearing the gloves?” Shepard asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been wearing them around a lot lately.”

“They’re comfortable.”  Samantha defended.  “They were the first present you ever gave me.”

“I thought the toothbrush was the first present I gave you.”

“You gave me the gloves before the toothbrush.  On our first training session.”

“Just after we left Mars.”

“Right.”

“Does they still count if I didn’t think of them as a gift at the time?  That I thought I was just loaning them to you?”

“They still count, and you know you’re not getting them back.”

“I’ll just have to keep you around then, so I never lose them.”

“And, Technically, you didn’t give me the toothbrush.  My super wealthy and beautiful secret admirer did.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.”  Shepard let go of Samantha’s hand and threw her arm around her as they walked into the apartment building, “I’m going to have to keep an eye out for her.  Make sure she doesn’t come in and sweep you off your feet.”

“Any day now.  Also, is this the toothbrush you broke, trying to hijack your own ship?”  They entered the elevator.  Samantha pushed the button for their floor.

“Right…About that…” Samantha gave Shepard a playful accusatory look, “I’m going to replace it.  I promise.”

“Honey,” Samantha put her hands on Shepard’s hips and looked into her eyes, “I think, as long as it is sitting in a cup next to yours, it doesn’t matter what kind of toothbrush I have.”

“Awww…” Shepard teased before they kissed.

“…as long as it uses mass effect fields to break up plaque and massage the gums.”

“Of course.”

“Of course.”

“You are so going to pay for…”

“ah ah ah.  I’m in charge, remember?”  Samantha pulled Shepard in.

“Yes ma’am…”


End file.
